


Gemini

by canidswain



Category: ECKVA, Marble Hornets
Genre: Canonical Character Death, Closure, Depression, Dissociation, Dissociative Identity Disorder, First Meetings, Gen, Hallucinations, Mental Health Issues, Mistaken Identity, Nonbinary Character, Post-Canon, Road Trips, Service Dogs, Survivor Guilt, Timothy "Tim" Wright | Masky has DID - Dissociative Identity Disorder, Twins, Vomiting, the major character death is for jay and its in the past, these sound bad but i prommy is just trigger warnings!, unreality
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-22
Updated: 2020-11-09
Packaged: 2021-03-08 23:42:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 10
Words: 11,785
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27154696
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/canidswain/pseuds/canidswain
Summary: Tim is surviving after the events of Marble Hornets, and meets someone that he believes to be familiar.-Tim and S. Hawkins meet fic!!
Relationships: Past Jay Merrick/Timothy "Tim" Wright | Masky
Comments: 6
Kudos: 23





	1. i carry your heart with me(i carry it in my heart)

**Author's Note:**

> HIII i havent been able to get this idea out of my head since eckva was announced to be returning  
> important things: ammon is "masky", is an alter. im singlet, but have a lot of friends in systems who i ask for specifics in fics.  
> i am of the headcanon that shawkins and jay are... dun dun dun. Twins!!! since its like. hinted / implied or whatever that eckva and mh are same universe (arklistener, clear lakes) but troy plays both jay and shawkins im like.... lol so they twins then.  
> ALSO shawkins is nonbinary and uses they/them but Is referred to as he/him and it/its in this fic bc its from tims pov and he first believes theyre jay and then believes theyre a hallucination
> 
> warning tim does start dissociating badly!! might b triggering
> 
> EDIT: added tims service dog haley!!  
> EDIT 2: made haley little more accurate in how she deals w tim!  
> EDIT 3: changed chapter titles to lyrics from i carry your heart with me by e e cummings :]

Every day, Tim wakes up and tells himself he's alive. He sits up, looks out of the window above his bed and reassures himself there is no featureless face in it, nor orange hoodie. He gets out of bed, feeds Haley, has breakfast, does chores, goes to work, comes back home, and remembers he survived. And he's still surviving.

Because right now, that's what it feels like. Tim isn't living, not really. He's going through the motions, still seeing a therapist, but still he feels like he is simply fulfilling a routine to prove something. If he gave up, then what would that mean? Everyone before him would have died for nothing.

Jay would have died for nothing.

And every day, he shrugs off these thoughts and continues on like clockwork. He has his periods of amnesia, and will often wake to find a sticky note on the fridge. This is good - he and his alter are slowly learning to communicate. Ammon is helping him with their joint life, just like they are supposed to. At least he has someone he can rely on.

Some days he stays in bed. He slips in and out of sleep, in and out of coherence as Ammon tries to push him out of front so they can at least get the body fed. Sometimes they do, sometimes he just lays there cocooned in his quilt and wrapped in guilt - aside from to get up and feed the dog. He never cries much, the trauma's knocked it out of him. Feeling faint anger and an aching hollowness, he will lay for hours and then he will get up the next day and do something like cleaning the whole house to make up for it.

They make it work. He has a job now - retail, again. They took a chance on him, as it wasn't like his last employers could give him a good reference after he disappeared for weeks. But he goes and he helps customers that grate on his nerves and works overtime and does anything to take his mind away from the countless people that are dead. Haley will sit obediently by his feet while he rings patrons up.

He wonders a lot how Jessica is doing.

In therapy, they seem to have concluded his entire experience with the Operator to be an extended psychotic episode brought on by stress and resurfacing traumatic memories. He can almost believe that - a lot of the time, he finds it's easier to. It's simpler to pretend that faceless thing was just another hallucination and he wasn't being stalked by a madman with a gun. That his best friend from college wasn't breaking into his house and stealing his medication and exploiting his alter. It's nice to think that his brain made it up to punish him for nothing in particular, and that now he has steady medication and regular psychiatry it won't happen again.

But Jay throws a wrench in that idea.

Even tickling at the fact that Jay could have been similarly unreal makes bile rise in his throat. It feels sickly, hideously disrespectful to humour the idea. Jay is dead, and it's Tim's fault. He will always have to live with that, and he knows what he felt for Jay was real. Besides, he kept the videos up, and sometimes Tim goes back to watch them, just to see Jay again. It's unhealthy and he doesn't tell his therapist, but he misses him like an organ.

Today, Tim needs milk and eggs. It's been a little more than two years since it all happened, and he's moved around quite a bit since then. The town they're currently settled in is larger than the one back in Alabama, and he lives just outside. He works in a large-ish clothing chain, and the corner shop he gets most of his groceries at is just a few blocks down. He parks, heads to the store, Haley trotting along by his ankles. Haley is his young German Shepherd, trained to assist in seizures and his various mental storms - from depression to dissociation to PTSD. She marches along in her red SERVICE DOG vest.

Not wanting to be a grouchy outsider to the town, Tim has established himself as as perky and suave as he can manage. He is on a first name basis with the man behind the counter, who sees him as a handsome young man who came from Alabama to find some more excitement. That's better than the reality, so he keeps it up.

The store has air-con, which is making him shiver slightly when standing next to the fridge. He slides the door, picks out a gallon and allows himself a single moment of respite with the chill of the fridge on his face. Then he shuts it again, turns, and heads to where he knows the eggs are.

It's early morning, so not a lot of people are in the store. He's counted three other patrons while wandering. Making it to the eggs, he collects a sensible carton of a dozen and is just beginning to head to the counter when he sees something that makes him freeze in place.

There's a man in the aisle with him. He's taller, with light brown hair and pasty skin. Wearing a faded brown hoodie and jeans. Skinny.

Wetness on his shoes, Tim realises. He's dropped the milk, and the gallon has bust open and is pouring out onto the floor. He feels faint. Haley has squeezed between his legs.

The skinny man's head twitches once, then snaps towards him in alarm. There's a surgical mask covering his mouth and nose.

Those eyes. "Jay?"

There's only confusion in Jay's face.

Tim almost slams face first when he skids on the milk on his way past him. Time feels funny, the space around him feels thick and he thinks he can hear the shop's owner yelling at him but it's too far away. The shop is left behind, he twists into an alleyway and throws up the contents of last night's meal against a graffiti'd wall.

After he is finished emptying his stomach, he leans back and drinks in the fresh air. His dog is still with him, standing up to put her paws on his stomach and doing her best to push him to the floor. He complies, sinking down to sit against the wall of the alleyway, and she slumps herself over his lap and acts as a weighted blanket on his thighs. Now, he can tell that that was not Jay. Jay is dead, so it was a hallucination. It's peculiar, and painful, because he's never had one of Jay before. It feels cruel.

This upset has drawn Ammon closer to the front, he can feel. They aren't pushing him out but they're there, a comforting presence as he tries to steady his breathing. He has been trying to quit smoking, but at this moment, his hands beg for something to hold and he itches for some nicotine, so he twists his fingers in Haley's fluffy mane. Tipping his head back, he lets his eyes flicker as a headache steadily sets in. He should probably head back to the shop and scrape whatever relationship he has left with the owner from the ground.

Before he can think about moving, there's an uncertain cough from the alleyway entrance. He glances over, and immediately spins to the side (pushing Haley roughly off) and doubles back over. There's nothing else to pull from his stomach, but he still retches at the sight of Jay standing there so tauntingly. Ammon comes closer to front, reassuring but worsening his now-migraine, and Tim fights them off. He's fine. It's just a hallucination, no reason to switch.

There's an arm on his bicep. He flinches away, fright passing through him, scrambling away against the wall. That felt real. That can't have been real. It's a hallucination, he's heard they can touch you sometimes. It's not real. Haley is trying to wiggle back into his lap. The Jay-copy steps back, wavering, leering over him, dangerously close to the pile of vomit seeping down the wall. It's moving its hands, he picks up. Co-ordinated and purposeful - sign language.

Confusion permeates through his foggy head. Jay never signed around him.

After a moment, the hallucination seems to get that he doesn't understand. It pulls out its phone from its pocket, and types for a moment. It holds it out to him, and in his fuzzy eyesight he can just about read the words on the screen.

_You know my brother?_

Next thing Tim knows, he's laying in bed. The sun is rising outside his window. He's disoriented as all hell.

Turning onto his side, he sees Haley laying on the ground next to his bed. He shakily picks up his phone from the bedside table. He unlocks it.

Ammon has left it open on the gallery app. The most recent picture stares back at him - a skinny man in an alleyway, quite real and quite alive.


	2. i am never without it(anywhere i go you go,my dear;and whatever is done by only me is your doing,my darling)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They meet once again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this probably wont continue past this chapter seen as i have literally no idea how a tim shawkins joint series would go but HERE i wanted to write more

Tim lays in bed for another half day, only getting up once to feed Haley. He doesn't feel Ammon at all, they let him rest and deal with the life-altering news, Haley nosing his hand where it hangs off the bed. Jay is still dead, not like he ever wouldn't be, but he had a sibling and didn't mention them once. Not even just a sibling - a _twin._ After thinking it over for a while, he can't find it in himself to be mad. Tim only revealed his past because it was related to their investigation; Jay probably just thought it wasn't relevant. Tim never asked, actually.

Guilt settles in his stomach again.

It's well into evening when Tim's hunger drives him out of bed. Throwing up yesterday's dinner - or the day before that, he guesses, since Ammon fronted for the rest of yesterday - has left him feeling empty and sick, and he didn't get the chance to eat anything yesterday. But he's not quite as hungry as he ought to be, so Ammon probably took care of it. He should buy them something with his next wage to say thank you.

He's late on taking his meds, but he takes them anyway and moves sluggishly through to the bathroom. Shower first, then eat something, then back to the routine. The body could use a shave, too.

The shower lasts a while longer than it should - he stands for far too long in a foggy feeling, the water running off his back but feeling entirely somewhere else. Afterwards, he trims his thickening beard and becomes freaked out by his reflection, then pulls on jeans and a flannel and heads to the kitchen. He wonders if Ammon went back and dealt with the shop-owner and got them the milk and eggs again. He's not looking forward to the next time he steps foot in that shop.

Tim is about to find out the answer to that question when he notices a new sticky-note on the fridge. He peels it off. There, in Ammon's scrawling cursive:

_Meeting with Jay twin. Coffee shop by work. DO NOT MISS._

There's a date and time written at the top, and a passionate frowny face drawn next to the capital block letters. Tim lets himself be amused for a mere second before he realises what this means and nearly throws up all over again.

Ammon has arranged a meeting with the person who looks exactly like Jay. He will have to look at someone and see Jay, his dead friend Jay. What do they even want him to meet them about? He heaves a laboured sigh and reads the date again. It's tomorrow, luckily he didn't lay in and miss it.

Opening the fridge, there is still no milk. So Ammon didn't bother with that fiasco. He doesn't blame them. Tim settles for toast and apple juice and sits miserably on his couch choking it down, with Haley behind his ankles.

He feels like he owes it to Ammon to go to this meeting. Besides, it might end up getting him some form of closure. Maybe.

For the rest of the day, he cleans the house and organises just about anything he can think of. Orders his meds in their plastic box and re-orders them, takes all his clothes out of the dresser and folds them back in, throws out any old shit in their room, washes any dishes he can find, re-sorts the movie collection. He walks Haley around the block in the dark. Eventually, there's simply nothing left to do. The moon is high now but he's wide awake, scared and wired on nerves.

He scrolls through Twitter mindlessly, switches to youtube a few minutes later. For a moment, his finger hovers over the channel he longs to click. Just to see him again, for a moment. Even if it's just a memory on his phone screen. But somehow, he feels as if that's disrespectful to his twin. Tim doesn't know where that feeling has come from, but he uses it to guide himself away from the torture of seeing Jay and knowing he'll never get him back.

Take some Melatonin, lay back and try to get some sleep. He does just that, but even as sleep comes he's still thinking about Jay and his sibling.

The next morning, he has more toast and makes himself presentable. Another day of trying his best to be a model member of American society. Except today he won't be - today he will probably be talking about his dead boyfriend and possibly vomiting again. He might even be talking about the Operator, if Jay's twin doesn't immediately dismiss the event as ludicrous.

The coffee shop next to work, the note said. It's local and quaint, not a chain, with a calm atmosphere for students and the elderly. Tim hopes this will dampen any potentially distressing conversation they have; that Jay's sibling will be less inclined to call him insane and make a scene. He parks as usual, and then sits in his car for ten minutes practicing his breathing exercises and swallowing bile. Haley sits in the passenger sides footwell, resting her chin on his hand. Finally, he uncertainly exits the car and makes his way to the coffeehouse's door.

He is hit with the thick scent of freshly brewed coffee on his way in, overpowering and sickly. It's around noon, so it's pretty busy, but Tim sees his acquaintance immediately and has to steady himself again.

They're sat alone at a table, staring ahead, shaking. They haven't bought anything, he notices, they just sit there looking vaguely irked. He swallows.

Before he realises he's moving, Tim has sat down across from them. Haley assumes her usual position, tucked away comfortably. "Hi." he greets.

They consider him a moment, and give an almost amicable nod. They're wearing the surgical mask again, and now he has a better look at them he sees blue latex gloves and a black thermal vest's collar peeking out from their hoodie. Apart from their eyes and a bit of their neck, their skin seems almost entirely covered.

Conversation. Right. "Uh, I'd like to apologise for yesterday. That was probably... real awkward for you. Sorry."

They sign something short in return. He curses internally. Ammon and he learnt sign together at the hospital, but he never had much use for it compared to Ammon so his skills are less than rusty. "Ah, I'm not that good at sign. Sorry, I learnt it a while ago and I never kept up practice." A pause. "Oh, are you deaf?" He attempts what little he can remember alongside that.

They shake their head, thankfully, but narrow their eyes. It dawns on Tim that to arrange this meeting, Ammon most likely would have been signing. He'll just have to hope they don't pry, because he really does not feel like outing himself to a stranger right now.

"I'm Tim." he says. Once again they seem to deliberate for a moment.

 _H-A-W-K-I-N-S._ He reads that on their fingers as thankfully he can remember at least the alphabet, and then they take out their phone on the notes app so he won't have to worry about it any more.

The conversation goes dead. Tim notices Hawkins is scratching the back of one of their gloved hands, which continue to shake. They don't seem all that nervous, so he thinks it might be chronic. There's an occasional clicking noise from behind their mask - teeth slamming together? It sounds painful.

 _You know my brother?_ Once again they are pushing those words toward him on the phone, and Tim grips the edge of the table as not to faint or vomit. Instantly he feels Haley sit up and press her head between his thighs, resting her snout against his stomach. He keeps having to look down, because he keeps forgetting it's not Jay sat in front of him.

Mouth dry, he tries. Because it's Jay's sibling, and he owes them that much. "Um, yeah. I did. We were doing this investigation thing together, hotel-hopping for a couple months." _I was in love with him,_ he desperately wants to say.

They type again on the phone. _Where is he now?_ Tim seriously feels like he's about to faint. His hands go to rub Haley's ears.

He can't get an answer out. He tries, but he's freezing up. When it's clear an answer isn't coming, Hawkins takes the phone back. _The last time I saw him was more than a decade ago. I just want to know where he is._

 _He's dead. He's dead and it's my fault because I left him alone and I should have been there._ It won't come out, no matter how much he tries to force it. He ducks his head down, drinking in coffee-tinged air and swallowing the urge to projectile vomit his toast.

One more time the phone slides across the table. Hawkins' hands are twitching erratically.

_did something happen?_

For a single moment, Tim manages to look them in the eye. Jay stares out of those pupils, back at him.

"He's dead."

They're both silent then. The hum of the surrounding patrons overtakes Tim, he shuts his eyes and drops his head.

Hawkins sits, dissolving the information. Trying to believe it isn't true. _Liar._ they sign but Tim isn't looking at them. He can still sense that they're doubting him, though.

"I have..." Tim swallows with the effort of talking through his sandpaper mouth. "There's a youtube channel he was uploading on. It has the proof. I can take you to where it happened, if you want me to. What would I gain from lying to you?"

Hawkins stands and walks out of the coffee shop. Their phone still sits on the table in front of him, taunting him. _did something happen?_ Tim sits, unable to move from his hunched position.

_did something happen?_

For the first time in months, Tim Wright cries.


	3. i fear no fate(for you are my fate,my sweet)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Further conversation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok im just gna update this with whatever i want idk how long itll be or if itll ever be "finished" or anything LOL

Another ten minutes pass before Tim pulls himself together and stops the tears. Hawkins' phone still lays on the table - he should go find them, give it back. His stomach sinks at the thought of having to look at them again, especially now that they either think he's lying or see him as the man who was with their brother when he died. Tim doesn't know if he'd have the heart to tell them that Jay died alone.

For another few minutes he sits glued to his chair, trying and failing to get up. Just stroking Haley's ears. The phone is still on, Tim sees a pop up appear saying "new broadcast auto upload complete" but quickly averts his eyes. That's none of his business. He turns it off, picks it up. Finally, he gets to his feet, steels himself, and leaves the coffeehouse.

Hawkins isn't nearby, that he can see. He checks down alleyways either side of the shop, scours his surroundings, then settles on wandering to the small park across the street. It's little more than a square of grass with a minuscule fountain in the centre, really.

Passing the hedge lining the park, he near instantly spots Hawkins hunched on a bench, still trembling and twitching. Deep breaths. He makes his way over.

At first, he just stands in front of them, Haley between his legs. "You left your phone." He holds it out.

Hawkins doesn't move. Figures. Hesitant, Tim settles on the other end of the bench, his dog laying underneath, and puts the phone between them.

It's silent for another few minutes. Tim tries not to be obvious, but out of the corner of his eye he watches Hawkins and their mannerisms. He's certain now - they have some kind of motor disorder, with the tremor to their hands and the irregular jerking of their head. Their teeth chatter harshly, crushing together, while he sees their cheeks spasming independent of each other - like they're smirking rapidly. For a moment, he thinks they're stimming, then tells himself to stop projecting.

Eventually, they pick the phone up again. He expects them to leave without a word, yet they stay and continue to stare at the ground. They haven't been crying as far as he can tell. Looking up to face him, they go to sign then stop themself and duck back to the phone. _You said there was a youtube channel?_

Tim blinks. "Yeah." It occurs to him that to an outsider, Marble Hornets would definitely just look like a group of friends making a pretty dedicated horror series. It would insult Hawkins; it would definitely make them think he was lying and just toying with their emotions. He's stuck.

Hawkins stares at him expectantly. What can he say? "It's... look, it's hard to believe."

Still staring, Hawkins makes no indication they've even heard him. He sighs, burdened.

"It's called Marble Hornets."

A look of realisation crosses their face - or at least he thinks it is, it's difficult to tell with the mask. "What, do you recognise it?"

 _There's a twitter account that trolls me called marblehornets._ says their phone.

The urge to vomit overcomes Tim again. "That's... that was Jay's twitter. I have the log-in, but I haven't used it for years."

They stare at each other, then. For a moment, Tim toys with the idea that totheark is back, or even Alex, however then he remembers they're both dead. And it's still his fault. So it must be someone else, probably just a typical troll that hacked their way in. Taking out his phone, Tim hurriedly attempts to sign into @marblehornets. "They've changed the password."

Hawkins is looking away, scratching up and down their arms while Tim scrolls through the recent tweets of this hacker. All cryptic nonsense just like totheark - and videos, as well. He feels sick. Like somehow someone is desecrating Jay's grave by tweeting on his abandoned account. Haley has sensed his distress and is once again standing to nuzzle her face into his chest.

"Yeah, this is Jay's. If you go further down, to 2014 and back, that's him. And- and me, too."

_When did he die_

Tim stares at the phone for a few moments, stunned by its bluntness. Haley's wet nose touches his cheek. He looks up to Hawkins, and their hard gaze on him is claustrophobic.

"...December of 2013."

It's now late October, 2016. Hawkins leans back, an audible sigh coming through their mask. Tim lowers his head, but he's not worried about crying. He's just used up all his tears for the next few months back at the coffee shop.

A single gloved hand is shakily offered to him. Tim looks at Hawkins in confusion, who gestures to his phone. Reluctantly, he passes it over. He watches as Hawkins opens his contacts list - not that he has many now. Work, Jessica (not that he'd even dare), and Jay who he refuses to get rid of. He sees Hawkins pause at Jay's name. Then they move on and add their own number to his phone, naming it "S. Hawkins". How formal. He can't help but wonder what the S. stands for.

They pass it back, and he texts them a simple "This is Tim" for confirmation. Their phone buzzes; he sees them name his contact "Tim (Jay)".

With a single nod, they stand and walk away. He guesses he'll be seeing them again, then.

As soon as Tim gets home, he orders a stimtoy for Ammon. He's unsure what exactly they'll want, so he gets a simple chew-necklace; it's shaped like some kind of sharp tooth and it's black. On a sticky-note, he writes "Present for you" and scribbles the arrival date underneath, and then it goes on the fridge.

Afterwards, he feeds Haley and lays back on their bed. He doesn't want to text Hawkins right away, he assumes they'll message whenever they need him. It's strangely motivating - he feels restless and old grief about Jay has become fresh, but Tim feels like he's actually doing something worthwhile now. Instead of just carrying out a routine for the sake of it, he's going to be helping Jay's sibling.

He pushes away the thought of how on earth to explain the Operator and Alex. He doesn't think about them watching the entries, thinking him a liar, and blocking his number. Instead he puts his phone in a drawer and goes to bed early. He has work tomorrow.


	4. i want no world(for beautiful you are my world,my true)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hawkins replies.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YEAH SOOO THIS IS GNA BE A SERIES NOW  
> im literally updating when i feel like it and i have no prewritten chapters so i doubt this will ever be finished but WOO
> 
> EDIT: added paragraphs about ammons mask and their manager  
> EDIT 2: changed it to shawkins texting tim after two weeks instead of one to line up with eckva canon of shawkins being at home on nov 6th to receive the package

The next day, Tim goes to work as usual. He tries to push S. Hawkins to the back of his mind, focusing on customers and the numbness of working hours. He manages it eventually, encountering a particularly vicious man who takes up at least forty minutes of his shift with shouting and curses. Tim puts on his best kindly smile, fake understanding tone, and endures the man. It actually takes his thoughts completely away from Hawkins, and instead to "Good God, why do I still work here, I want to commit murder every day".

After work he gets take-out and eats it in his car, checks his twitter. Out of curiosity, he types "hawkins" into the searchbar. He's not being weird, he tells himself, it's just making sure. Maybe creating stalkerish content for your twitter following is something that runs in the Merrick family. Then it occurs to him that Hawkins isn't using the name Merrick - but he brushes it off, everyone has their reasons, it's none of his business. They did say that they hadn't seen Jay in a decade; were they estranged?

Nevertheless, he can't find anything that looks like it would be them. Taking it one step further, he enters "shawkins". The first result, he finds, is @SHawkins1926. It only has 3 tweets, but he has a tweaking feeling it's them.

_Using twitter to keep track of things_

_I never saw that employment ad. It looks very old._

_A lot of people are mentioning me. I probably don't know much more than they do._

There are so far no people in their replies either. But Tim feels excitement in his heart - if this is Hawkins, it looks like they're investigating something. Maybe he's jumping to conclusions, but maybe they have the same experience, or the beginnings of one. Maybe they'll understand.

He goes home, does his chores and goes to bed, his heart still fluttering all the while.

The day after that is foggy - he walks Haley in the morning but doesn't remember getting home, suddenly he's sitting on the kitchen floor with Ammon's stimtoy around his neck. He goes and puts it on the bedside table, checks the time, and gets ready for work. Then once again he's already at work, sitting on the floor behind the counter with Haley draped across his knees, nosing under his hands. There's a customer rather rudely berating him across the till - he can't really hear them, his head still swimmy, and he can see his manager kneeling next to him giving him a concerned and sympathetic look.

He's wearing Ammon's mask, too - not the old plastic one, he threw that away and never heard the end of it from his alter. After some working it out, they had compromised with a regular plain face-mask to cover the nose and mouth; Ammon could wear it when out of the house, and could wear the lovingly-made second edition of their old mask at home if they wanted to. It was more professional to look sick than to go around wearing what looked like a homemade Halloween mask, even Ammon could understand that, and the last thing they wanted was to risk Tim his job.

Their manager is surprisingly understanding, which Tim is grateful for. She's good about Haley, trusting that Tim knows the rules of his own service animal, so when he's forced onto the floor by his dog like this she's immediately concerned for his health rather than irritated he's holding up the line. He likes her - she's around the age of his mother, he thinks, and sometimes he's found himself wishing that he had her for a parent rather than his actual mom.

All these thoughts flow disjointedly through his head as he is swore at and as his manager tries to talk to him. He blinks. It's just one of those days, he guesses.

He doesn't hear back from Hawkins for another two weeks, and he's half tempted to text them just to make sure they haven't blocked his number. He doesn't, but he's ashamed to admit that he's been checking the @SHawkins1926 account regularly. It definitely seems like an investigation to him, around something called ECKVA Network. He's searched the name, and found a youtube channel under the name "eckvanet" uploading creepy totheark-esque videos. There are only two so far, and he assumes they're being uploaded either by whoever is now running Jay's twitter or Hawkins themself.

Tim has to say, he's become slightly obsessed over the idea that Hawkins could potentially understand what he's gone through.

At the end of the second week, his phone buzzes with messages.

_SH: I finished marble hornets  
SH: I don't know if I believe you yet but I still want your help.  
SH: You seem okay, from the videos as well. I don't know what you'd gain from lying to me either_

Heart thundering in his chest, Tim waits to see if anything else will pop up before thinking through his reply.

_TJ: Yeah, i know it's a lot to take in. Thank you, really. I cared about Jay a lot, I still do  
TJ: This is hard to express over text sorry  
TJ: do you want to meet up again?_

There's silence for at least ten minutes. Tim feels panic spike through him, and slumps down on the couch, grating his teeth and pulling his hair. Haley shuffles up into his lap, curling her front legs around his arms to pull them away from his head. Finally, his phone buzzes again.

_SH: Can you take me to where he died?  
SH: We can talk through it on the way_

Tim blinks. Hawkins wants to drive back to Alabama with him? To visit the site of their brother's _death?_ It dawns on him that they want _him_ to take them. That means going back to Alabama, going back to where it all happened. Going back to where he let Jay go.

_TJ: Are you sure?_

_SH: If you won't take me I'm going to find it myself._

That settles it then.

_TJ: Okay_  
_TJ: Give me a few days to sort my vacation days with work_  
_TJ: Ill text you when I'm ready_

He doesn't wait for an answer, turning off his phone and letting it drop on the floor. His cheeks are wet, he realises. There's a fresh, aching pain in his chest that he doesn't know how to get rid of, and Haley tries her best but it's just not enough.

He misses Jay so much.


	5. and it’s you are whatever a moon has always meant and whatever a sun will always sing is you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The trip begins.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> shawkins mental illness time <3  
> uhhh i guess i should say my headcanons for shawkins include autistic, chronic tremors (that they sometimes use a cane for), germaphobia, n delusions and intrusive thoughts related to illness / dirt / bugs (which they have compulsions for as a result)
> 
> tim meanwhile is schizophrenic, adhd autism, did system, recurrent depressive disorder n some type of seizure disorder, undecided but probably epilepsy.
> 
> EDIT: mentioned shawkins grabbing their cane on the way out cause im forgetti and didnt do that

It's three days later when Tim throws his duffel bag into the boot of his car and drives to the other side of town. He pulls up outside a block of apartments, texting Hawkins that he's there. Then he sits for another few minutes, watching Haley sitting obediently on the back seat. His phone buzzes -

_SH: i'll be a minute  
SH: come up if yuo want_

Tim frowns at the unusual typing style, quickly getting out and locking his car. He knows their apartment number; he scales the fire exit and finds it unlocked for him.

The fire exit leads into a pristine living room - pretty bare as well. A couch, a small TV on a stand across from it, and a bookcase in the corner where everything looks to be perfectly sorted and cleaned. The air smells _sterile,_ he realises. The room opens into a similarly disinfected kitchen space. There's rustling coming from a room adjacent to the living room, so he wanders over and knocks before peeking his head in.

S. Hawkins is standing over by a shelving unit in the corner of what Tim recognises to be their bedroom. They bang on the unit four times, evenly, then make a distressed noise and do it again. Tim's eyes scan over the unit itself - it has containers of different kinds of medication lined up on it, evenly spaced apart and rattling every time Hawkins thumps the unit. They only have one glove on, on the hand that hits the shelves, and they aren't wearing a mask. Their face is twisted and pained, cheeks twitching as they hit it again.

They continue doing this until finally, they hit it hard enough to topple one of the pill bottles. It rolls, they watch it with fierce intensity, and it falls to the carpeted floor. Instantaneously they exhale, stand up straight, picking it up and crossing the room to put it on their desk. Tim can see the label from here - it's the same anti-psychotics he takes.

It's about this point that they see Tim standing in the doorway and they rush back to the unit, kneeling to one of the lower shelves. That's where they keep the gloves and masks, he sees, as they hurriedly shove another glove on and cover themself with another disposable mask. Then they stand, brush themself off, and nod at him.

Compulsions, Tim recognises. He takes a moment to look properly at the room - a single bed to his right with a suitcase on top, the desk to his left that has a stack of broken-looking laptops pushed into its corner and a working one closed neatly. There's a window across from where he's standing, either with fogged glass or one of those adhesive sheets to make it opaque. There's also a cane leaning against the radiator under the window, but it looks like it hasn't been used in a while.

"Hey. You ready to go?"

They hold up a hand, crossing back to the unit and running over the medication. They pick up a bottle as well as the boxes of gloves and masks, tuck them into their suitcase and zip it up. A single thumbs up is sent his way, so after Hawkins grabs their cane (which Tim notes has been wrapped with plastic at the bottom) the two head back out the fire escape and down to Tim's car. He notices on the way down that they lag behind, opening and closing the door three times before locking it.

Tim offers to put their suitcase in his trunk for them, but they give a sharp shake of the head and lug it in themself. Afterwards, they settle down in the front of the car and get on the road to Alabama.

It'll only take half a day, with them stopping for lunch, and the immediacy of it is frightening Tim. Despite having three days to think the trip over and psyche himself up for it, he still feels fragile and scared when faced with it. It does not help that Hawkins doesn't speak, and doesn't seem one for conversation anyway. The radio is on, playing some obscure station, but the air of his car feels heavy and awkward. Out of the corner of his eye he can see Hawkins staring out of the window and is filled with some awful sense of déjà vu. Of when Jay would sit in the passenger seat of his car, but then they would be smiling and singing awfully along to songs they hadn't heard in years, and holding hands over the console.

There's someone who looks like Jay in the car, but they're cold and distant and virtually a stranger. Smalltalk, then.

"Jay never actually mentioned he had a twin. Or any siblings for that matter."

They pull out their phone to reply.

 _I'm not surprised. We haven't seen each other since he cut off our parents._ their text-to-speech reads off.

Slight surprise flows through Tim - he guess he hadn't considered Jay had a rough family life. They just never talked about his past, so maybe that should have been a sign. "He never brought up anything from before we met. Would you wanna... talk about it?"

He sees them staring at their phone blankly.

A few minutes later, the robotic voice fills the car again. _There's not much to talk about. We were both trans, and I was closeted but he wasn't. Our parents didn't like it, so he took his inheritance when he was seventeen and I never saw him again. Partly because our parents convinced me he was evil somehow, and then by the time I stopped believing that, I had no idea how to find him._

"Damn, I'm sorry." Tim says, and then something registers a second later, "Wait, _inheritance?_ How loaded were your parents?"

_We were well-off. Did you ever wonder how he could afford hotels every day for years without a job?_

Tim is embarrassed to admit the thought never really crossed his mind. It goes back to silence after that, but it's a more comfortable silence than the one before. He switches the radio to music.

 _I'm sorry for you as well._ The phone suddenly cuts through the music.

"S-sorry for what?" It's been a bit since their conversation, Tim is confused.

Hawkins is looking down. _Growing up in that hospital, and everything else. I can't relate to the hospital, but I was raised on therapists too, and I've experienced a lot of what you did._

A small portion of joy slides onto Tim's face. "Yeah, I- uh, noticed your anti-psychotics."

They nod, and Tim swears he sees the corners of their eyes crinkle voluntarily. Maybe this trip _will_ give him the closure he needs.


	6. here is the deepest secret nobody knows

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They go to Rosswood.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ammon time :]  
> fuck brian all my friends hate brian

They decide to wait until the next day to head into Rosswood. At the hotel, they have one room with two beds, where they spend some time discussing their plan for the next few days. They both agree that they should wait a while before going to Benedict Hall - neither of them could handle that without any preparation. So Tim asks where they'd like to go, and they come up with a schedule.

Tomorrow they'll go for a hike through Rosswood; they'll stop by the familiar areas such as the red tower, the tunnel and the mill. The sheer size of Rosswood will mean it'll probably take up most of their day.

After that, Hawkins says they'd like to see Tim's house. It surprises Tim at first - after all, they were here about Jay, not him - but after some prodding he agrees. It's not like he even knows what state it's in now, whether it had been bulldozed or renovated for some family that would have no idea what happened there only two years ago.

And after Tim's house, they'd spend the afternoon in town, seeing the familiar sights (on Tim's part) and probably getting something to eat.

On the third day, they'd go to Benedict Hall.

Tim expects them to ask to see the hospital, but is pleasantly surprised when they avoid the topic completely. Relief falls into his bones - he doesn't have to go back there ever again.

So far, it's getting a bit easier to be around Hawkins. It still disturbs him when he catches a glimpse of them out of the corner of his eye and momentarily forgets it isn't Jay there with him, but he's adjusting to their style of speech and a sort of comfort has settled between them.

They go to bed early, or at least Tim does, he doesn't know if Hawkins follows. He has to be well rested for a long trek tomorrow.

The next day starts off okay. They have breakfast (which once again Tim feels is strikingly familiar), pile into his car and drive out to Rosswood.

As he gets out, he feels that old fear seize his heart. If he walks into those woods, that thing will be in there, he knows it. That faceless thing will take him just like it took Jay and it will probably take Hawkins too and it'll be his fault for bringing them out here. He leans against his car door, taking deep breaths, and almost misses when Hawkins gently puts a hand on his shoulder and nods at him. Taking that as a cue, he sinks to the ground (fully, now, laying down) and Haley flops down on top of him. Next to him, he senses Hawkins sitting patiently.

They must look strange, he thinks. Two people - sitting and laying respectively - in a car park with a dog sat on one and the other wearing gloves and a mask. This thought makes him laugh, almost. It comes out as a wheeze.

Ten minutes later, he feels calm enough to nudge Haley off and stand. His head feels a little light, but he isn't going to let that stop him.

Together, they head down the banking into the nostalgia of Rosswood Park. The trees envelop them far too quickly for Tim's liking, his hand tightening sharply on Haley's leash. He feels like if he looks around, he'll spot the tall man in the trees and then he'll be dead.

They make it twenty minutes in, with no conversation at all, until Tim asks to stop. He leans against a tree, massaging his head and groaning. Hawkins stands leaning on their cane, looking around, watching Haley waveringly, waiting. They wait there for a while, Tim slipping into a slouching seat on the forest floor, his head bobbing.

Finally, his head comes back up. His eyes are blinking, squinting, a noise building in the back of his throat. There's confusion on his face, and then surprise, and his eyes seem to light up with warmth.

Hawkins watches in curiosity. Tim gets up, unsteady, and wanders around with the remnants of a limp and twitching fingers.

The videos. The sudden and different attitude in the alleyway. Hawkins circles around the other person, lifting their hands.

 _Safe. Trust._ they sign. _Who are you?_

The other watches them now, face gone guarded, suspicion in their eyes. They speak, then, and it's stilted and sounds like they're completely unused to it, "Tim."

Hawkins doesn't push, simply nodding. _O-K._ They'll tell if they want to. For now, they just ask to carry on, to the tunnel. Tim's alter nods.

They push on, Haley as well, and Hawkins can't miss the content atmosphere surrounding the other person. It's like they belong here, in the thickest of trees, feeling safe and familiar. The complete opposite of Tim, who looked ready to panic upon the first step into the woods. They can't help their special interest for psychology and all things medical - it's some kind of dissociative disorder, they're most likely a system.

Ammon feels the twigs snap under the boots Tim put on today - the clumpy ones, not their favourite - and a serenity fills them. This is their safe place, where they'd run to back at the hospital when they snuck out. Where they followed around after totheark without a question because that meant hurting Alex and that meant protecting Tim. Where they walked with Jay, the same as they're walking now.

The person next to them looks like Jay, but it isn't. They're Hawkins - not Jay. They seemed okay from the one encounter they had in the alleyway, and although Ammon's first job is to protect the system, they feel from the way Hawkins has reacted to their switches that maybe they could tell them. Tim would probably be angry, but Tim is stuffy about a lot of things. Tim needs to loosen up sometimes.

Tim needs a friend, Ammon thinks.

They feel a bit irritable that Tim hasn't brought any kind of a mask. Not even the shitty medical ones that don't cover everything they should. So the body's face is completely exposed and Ammon's nerves are slightly weathering.

It's okay, mostly. Haley's there, that's good. Ammon likes Haley, he's glad Tim adopted her. They're in Rosswood too, which is even better.

And they're with a potential new friend.

Ammon thinks Hawkins could be a better friend than totheark. totheark seemed nice, and was dedicated, and said that he wanted to help. But Ammon knows now that really, totheark was cruel and hurt both them and Tim.

Hawkins would be nicer than that, they think.

They're rolling their tongue in their mouth when they reach the tunnel. They remember running through this. Inside, it has a tinny echo that Ammon plays with for a while, stamping their feet to hear it bounce around. Hawkins does the same. totheark would have told them to stop messing around.

After that, it's the red tower, which is more boring, but they decide to climb it and stand at the top to look out on the tops of the trees. The breeze feels nice, kind of. That's something they wouldn't usually notice, in the comforting heat of their mask. Hawkins walks around, watching Haley, looking on edge.

Finally, to the lumber mill. When they reach the second floor, Ammon looks up to see the bullethole in the roof. That was close.

Hawkins signs something to them, _You saved Jay here._

Looking back up to the hole, Ammon hesitates. Then they nod. _Me._ they sign back.

That was their own decision, not totheark's. They wanted to keep Jessica and Jay safe, so they had followed them through the woods out here. And when Alex had pulled his gun, they'd been there to manhandle him while the others escaped.

Jay. Ammon feels sad. They saw Jay less than Tim did, but they still liked him. Maybe Tim loved him, but Ammon had their fair share of kisses and quiet affectionate moments too. _Jay was nice._ They can tell Hawkins, they think. Hawkins is glad they saved Jay, totheark was mad they did something without asking his permission. They're not a pet, they think, they can make their own decisions about what's right, and they think it's right for them to tell Hawkins. _Nice to Tim. Nice to me._

Hawkins nods. They don't push, which Ammon likes. _A-M-M-O-N. Hello._ They say.

 _H-A-W-K-I-N-S._ And then Hawkins waves. They wave back, and Ammon doesn't smile because they're not good at it but they think Hawkins can tell they're happy.


	7. (here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud and the sky of the sky of a tree called life;

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Back at the hotel.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :] i love ammon can you tell i love ammon

When Tim opens his eyes, the first thing he notices is a damp patch on the hotel ceiling and his pounding headache. He immediately stuffs his head into his pillow, groaning loudly, temporarily forgetting that Hawkins is in the room, probably still sleeping.

He sits up, massaging his temples and squeezing his eyes shut. Relying mostly on sense of touch alone, Tim manovouers himself to his duffle bag and snatches out his painkillers, then heads to the bathroom to gulp them down with stale tap water. When he finally cranks his eyes wide enough, he's met with a dishevelled looking face and hair that is completely smoothed upright on one side from his pillow. Spending some time in the shittily-lit hotel washroom, he washes his face, rubs the sleep from his eyes, does his best to fix his hair (it's greasy as hell though, so the matt won't go down - did he have a nightmare?).

Finally dragging his feet back into the main bedroom, Tim sees Hawkins sat up in bed. They sleep with their mask and gloves on, as well as the thermal; that's all he can see before the rest of their body is obscured by the sheets. He wonders if they always do that, or if it's just the foreign nature of the hotel keeping them guarded. Can't be comfortable.

"Morning," he says, flopping back down on his own mattress, "Sorry, did I wake you?"

They shake their head. That's good, at least.

A moment later, Tim realises that he's definitely missing time. The last thing he remembers is walking through Rosswood, and then waking up here. That's considerably less good. Maybe Hawkins didn't notice, though - Ammon is alright at playing him when it comes down to it, especially to someone they both barely really know.

He's just finishing this thought when the voice of Hawkin's TTS creeps over to him, _I met Ammon yesterday. They seem very nice, they showed me around Rosswood and trusted me enough to tell me about your system._

Muffled anger collects inside Tim, and his headache gets suddenly worse. Ammon has stirred, somewhere distant but definitely there.

"They... told you."

Hawkins eyes narrow, and they nod. _Safe,_ Tim recognises the word on their hands.

They told Hawkins and didn't even ask him first. Ammon isn't exactly the best judge of character, Tim thunders, just look at what happened with totheark. No one needs to know their private business, it's between him and Ammon and his therapist and no one else at all.

 _And Jay,_ some tiny voice inside him says. He does his best to squash it.

Hawkins must notice his less than sunny disposition as soon he hears the metal voice again, _You can't be mad at them. They're their own person and equally as important as you, and they can make their own decisions. I'm sorry, but that's true, they did what they thought was best for the both of you. If you're worried about me, I wouldn't tell and I don't see either of you any differently. That's all._

"That's not the point-" Tim starts, but cuts himself off. He wants to say that Ammon's trust has landed them both in hot water before, but that's not fair on them. With totheark, they did what they thought was safest for Tim - helping a "friend" eliminate Alex. They had no way of knowing just how often and intensely Brian would use them.

This time, Ammon will see a potential friend for him. He knows it. They aren't a fan of strangers themself, but they leave reminders around for him - to go find some people to rely on outside of himself and his alter. Ammon will see Hawkins' similarities to the pair, their nonverbal nature and cane and medication, and their understanding of Tim's trauma; Ammon has decided that Hawkins will be a good friend, and with the way they waited patiently for him yesterday and respect most every part of him and his past, Tim thinks it's a fair judgement.

Sighing deeply, he nods, finally looking up to look at them again. "You're right. I'm not mad, I just got... caught off guard for a second. I trust you."

Like that moment in the car, he sees their eyes crinkle at the edges, twitching a little. It takes a moment, but he realises he's seeing Hawkins, actually Hawkins, and he wasn't even thinking about Jay.


	8. which grows higher than soul can hope or mind can hide)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A morning talk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this was GONNA be them going to tims but like i got too focused on the gay and then i realised its 12am and i have school in the morning SO you get that at a later date 

It's a slow start to the day - they decide to sit around for a while, just talking. Tim asks about how Ammon was yesterday, what the two did together.

In the years since realising he was part of a system, Tim has slowly built up his relationship with Ammon. He cringes at the way he used to act about his alter - _"Running around in the woods with a mask on at night,"_ \- but he's a long way past that now. Sometimes he remembers fondly how they began writing letters to each other when he was first trying to get to know them, the rush every couple of days of blinking back into existence and finding a roughly scrawled sheet of paper on his bedside table. Though Ammon doesn't speak, they can be very eloquent in writing when they choose to be.

It's strange thinking about the years of his life before he knew he had Ammon, because they're always there just behind him to help now. He makes sure never to take them for granted, though.

He's also realised how selfish he was acting earlier; he needs to remind himself that although Ammon supports him, they're equally their own person away from him. It didn't occur to him that maybe Ammon told Hawkins because really, they also wanted a friend. Someone they could talk to without speech or writing, but their own comfortable sign language. Not everything is about him.

Hawkins tells him about Ammon's tour through Rosswood. They say that after that, they both slowly trekked back, talking about Ammon and Jay and Hawkins as well. Hawkins says that Ammon is exciteable, which Tim laughs at, and when Hawkins seems shifty for a moment, Tim asks what's wrong.

 _They told me you were both involved with Jay. I thought so, you at least, but I wasn't sure. I'm sorry for you loss._ It sounds weird coming from Hawkins' phone speaker.

"He- he was your brother, dude. This should be the other way around-" Tim is flustered, and freshly wounded.

Hawkins simply shakes their head, and Tim accepts it.

"We... we didn't show it on camera, but yeah. Those months we were working together - I don't know. By the end of it we thought maybe we'd go live somewhere together after it all finished, but that... obviously didn't work out. I tried to get him help, I'm sorry, I did. He got better, and then he got worse... And then I left him."

Looking up, he sees Hawkins scratching their arm. But they nod at him, reassuring, they don't hate him.

"Ammon and him were together too, they're right. I don't know a lot about their relationship, since Jay didn't really talk about it a lot and Ammon and I weren't talking that well back then. But, y'know, we'd film while we slept, and I've seen tapes on tapes of them and Jay's nights together, and whatever they had, Ammon liked." Tim finds he's smiling, if pained, at the memory of a particular piece of footage Jay had flushed at while they were going through it together - Ammon, sat up in bed, with Jay curled up against them finally sleeping soundly. All three of them had sleeping problems, but Jay's seemed particularly bad since he was so paranoidly against taking Melatonin; he'd stay up for nights and nights with dry eyes and terrible posture. Tim sometimes managed to coax him to bed, but even then it was an entire other matter actually getting him to sleep.

Ammon, however, seemed skilled at lulling their boyfriend into a more-or-less nightmare-free slumber. They'd hold Jay to them, let him rest however way he wanted, talk until he exhausted himself, cry even. But in this video (Tim had gone back to watch it fully whilst Jay was in the bathroom, since he was so adamant over skipping over it), he watched them both put fast, bouncy music on and sit in bed together signing all the words with such energy Tim had never seen Jay use. And then, eventually, Jay had flopped onto Ammon's chest and tuckered right out.

Thinking about it now, Hawkins is the reason that Jay knew sign language, aren't they? He refuses to let a good memory turn bitter with the fact they never talked about Jay's past.

Jay's past is in front of him, now, and they're letting him talk about how much he still loves their dead brother. They're looking at him, scratching their neck, and Tim feels some kind of finality resting on his heart.


	9. and this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tim's old home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> well i said id write them going to tims house didnt i :]

Finally, after a late breakfast and even a couple of hoarse laughs, the trio climb back into Tim's car. Now, Tim goes more sombre. His house isn't far from here, he knows - he navigates the strikingly unchanged roads and trails until they turn into the suburb his home was on.

He pulls to a stop outside the suburb. Hawkins quirks their head inquisitively, "I wanna walk from here. Nostalgia, I guess." Without another word, he gets out, and Hawkins follows.

Haley sniffs around for a minute or so as they walk, not moving from his side but clearly curious about the area she's never been. Buildings come up on the road either side of them, the road slapping under Hawkins' unsteady gait; it's cloudy, with a breeze rustling Tim's hair. It doesn't feel that melancholy, though.

It feels wrong when he turns around the bend to see where his house should be. There's the remnants of a decking, still embedded in the grass, but other than that the home is completely gone. The blemish on the ground is the only sign he ever lived here.

They walk up closer, Haley on guard, and Tim sees his home of many years levelled to nothing. Completely demolished - they must have not bothered to save it after the fire, simply knocking the rest down and scraping the shrapnel away. There's still black powder on the ground around them, the evidence of the fire.

Tim remembers in vivid detail the moment Alex lit the spark and set his home ablaze. The sea of gasoline caught instantly, the flames rolling out across the floor and enveloping everything. Turning on his heel, barely remembering to grab his pills on the way out, unable to breathe or think past the word "RUN!". He swallows, feeling cold sweat behind his ears.

Slumping down in the wreckage of his home, Tim looks up at the sky. There are rainclouds collecting. Haley wriggles onto his lap, and he hears Hawkins crunch through the remains to stand at his shoulder. There's a feeling in his chest, but he doesn't really think it's sadness. More bittersweet.

The clouds break open and the first raindrop lands on his cheek, trickling down like a long needed tear. He doesn't cry, though. The rain feels refreshing rather than depressing, washing away the pain of this place, of Jay restrained on his floor, left to die.

There's a burnished hunk of melted plastic nearby. He slowly realises it's one of his pill bottles, melted away in the flames. Whether it was full or not doesn't matter - it doesn't matter at all anymore, because he's not desperate for pills, scavenging around like he had to back then. He has regular medication now. Things aren't bad anymore. Things are better.

He has a friend now, and it isn't Jay, but he has a friend. It isn't Brian, who hurt them, it isn't a therapist employed to listen to him now or back at the hospital, it isn't his dead friend Jay. But it's a friend.

Hawkins now sits next to him, looking up at the sky just the same. It's weirdly metaphorical, them sitting here in the absence of his home. It probably means something cheesy, to new beginnings, to letting his old life go. He doesn't have to yet, though. He will, but he's not ready yet. Not until Benedict Hall, until Jay.

"Thanks. I- I needed to come back here." he murmurs. His friend nods, knowingly. _Gone. Good._ their fingers say. _No more._


	10. i carry your heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Town time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :] fuck yeah exposition time

To Tim's old neighbours, they must look ridiculously weird and/or suspicious. They've been sat in the wreckage of his old home for near-on twenty minutes now, in the downpour that has begun to slip from the sky. Tim shivers, but still doesn't want to move. There's so much left here, he doesn't know if he can just walk away.

In the end, it's the tight way in which Hawkins is sitting next to him that drives him to his feet and back down the road towards the car. He doesn't know what scares them so much about the rain, but they're stiff and breathing heavily, so he isn't going to prolong it. When they make it to the car, Tim can confidently say they are both soaked to the bone. Haley gives them another brisk shower when she shakes herself dry in the backseat; Hawkins makes a high whining noise.

"You okay? Sorry, we shouldn't have stayed so long, now you're all wet..." Tim apologises as he turns the ignition. Hawkins simply shakes their head, signing _Fine._ multiple times. "Okay, but I think I have some old towels in the back if you want one." This violently increases the speed of Hawkins' head-shaking.

"Alright. But if there's anything you need..." Trailing off, Tim starts driving and watches Hawkins grind their teeth. It's not his business - his eyes go back to the road.

It's nearing noon; today they said they'd go into town after going to his house. Since Hawkins hasn't made any complaint, he assumes that's what they're still doing and drives on. They'll get food first, he thinks - neither of them had that big a breakfast, and already his stomach is feeling the consequences. Throughout the drive, Hawkins seems to stay at the same level of panic, clenching and unclenching their fists as they stare at their laces in the footwell. Tim cringes, wishing he could do something, but he doesn't want to overstep.

After a while, the streets turn familiar and he pulls up. The rain has ceased a little, petering off into a drizzle that seems to calm Hawkins marginally. There's a diner down the street Tim recalls (or at least there will be if it hasn't been closed down in the two years he's been gone). Together, with Haley in tow, they hurry down the pavement into the safety and warmth of the thankfully-still-there diner. Haley shakes off again, Hawkins flinching away.

Tim sees the person behind the counter look up and start, and he sees the usual incredulous look cross their face - he halts them in their tracks by pointing at the very clear service animal vest Haley sits proudly in. For a moment, they look stumped, then they don't have fire enough to challenge him on the matter and sink back into their seat, disinterested. Tim rolls his eyes.

That being dealt with, they crowd into a booth and Haley assumes her position behind his legs. Not even a second later, Hawkins is signing _Bathroom?_ and is off like a shot when Tim points.

They're gone for a while; Tim busies himself with reading the menu, and drying his sopping hair with a napkin. His fringe flops in his eyes in a very displeasing manner.

Finally, they're back, looking dryer but still stressed. They pick up the other menu, hands twitching more than usual.

"Are you sure you're okay? Can I help?" They don't look at him, staring at the words but Tim can tell they aren't reading them.

Eventually, they take their phone out, and the voice is out within seconds, _can't get sick._

Confusion shows on Tim's face for a minute, then he nods and looks away. They're psychotic, he knows from the medication, so two plus two... They have a sickness related delusion, most likely. The gloves, the facemask, the hand-sanitiser that hangs from a keychain on their cane - probably, they're afraid they'll catch a cold from the rain. There's nothing he can really do but be there and help them get dry when they're both somewhere more practical.

He looks back to the menu, "What're you thinking on food, then?" They shake their head. That makes sense; food from alien places, could get ill. Tim feels guilty he brought them here, now that he's going to be eating while they just sit there. He recalls now how they've been having breakfasts and dinners pre-packaged and pulled straight from their suitcase. "We can go somewhere else if you don't want to be here."

Another shake of the head. Tim's stomach growls on cue. That's that, then.

Once he's ordered his BLT, Tim plays with a straw and tries to think of what to say. He's reminded vividly of 2AM talks in roadside diners over a burger and a milkshake, in the spaces of time they comfortably had to themselves. Except now it's daytime, and Jay's still not there.

"Are you ready for tomorrow?" he eventually tries, slightly surprised by the resolute nod on Hawkins' end. Tim doesn't feel ready, not at all, but Hawkins seems so determined. "It might be underwhelming, I don't know. It's just a basement." Then he feels overwhelmingly disrespectful - it's not just a basement, it's where Jay (his lover, and their _brother_ ) died.

They don't seem to take offence though. The conversation gradually flows into something more steady, and Tim finally learns more about his new friend. They're a pharmaceutical worker, sitting in the back room and counting and packaging medication. They do freelance computer work on the side - Tim thinks back to the pile of busted up laptops on their desk. They clean and fix them up for extra cash. Once it turns to Tim, he tells how he works in retail, but then there's not much else to say. He sticks to a rigid routine and feels like a piece of shit if he breaks it?

Through some awkward phrasing, Tim finds out they're autistic, just like him, which makes him smile down at the table. Their special interest is most things disorder-related - be it mental or physical. There's a moment where they get carried away with signing (which he's already subpar at) on what he can only assume to be an infodump about what disorders they believe he has symptoms of. When they go back over it slowly, he embarrassingly finds them to be pretty much entirely accurate.

Tim's Hawkins-assigned disorder list goes as follows: some form of dissociative disorder causing systems, most likely dissociative identity disorder; depression, which they elaborate to be recurring depressive disorder considering his history ( _history?_ ); schizophrenia, of course; a kind of seizure disorder, he informs them it's epilepsy; both ADHD and autism. Almost as an after-thought, which Tim finds strangely funny, they tack on PTSD.

Tim sits with his bundle of disorders, thinking them through. He has diagnoses for schizophrenia, epilepsy, clinical depression, ADHD and autism. The rest fit well enough. he wonders how on earth Hawkins can armchair diagnose him that easily and accurately until he remembers they have footage of several years of his life. That makes sense, then.

Eventually, he thinks to mention ECKVA. He's embarrassed at admitting he searched for their twitter, but considering they've seen Marble Hornets, he feels slightly entitled to it. Either way, they're not mad, and just nod along. _It's just something I'm doing for fun right now,_ their phone says, _I've always been interested by those kind of lost-media legends._

Tim's probably being paranoid, but he tells them to be careful. The fact that a package got sent to their house unnerves him.

He can see the person behind the counter giving him the evil eye, and he checks his watch to see he finished his food thirty minutes ago. Paying and leaving a generous tip, they step outside to find the sun's come out and the rain has stopped entirely. A rainbow shimmers in the distance.

Hawkins says they want to go to the antique shop, so they do. Tim's surprised it's still in business - he liked the old lady who owned it, but last time he was here it was on the verge of shutting down. As they walk down the street, he points out his old clinic, feeling weird that he doesn't go there anymore. Reaching the shop, they wander inside, the bell above the door tinkling pleasantly.

Almost instantly, there's a high voice from the other side of the shop. "Timothy? 's that you?"

A little wheeze comes from behind Hawkins' mask - _T-I-M-O-T-H-Y?_

Tim ignores them, heading over to the counter. "Hi, Mrs. Matthews, it's been a while, huh?"

"Gosh, I haven't seen you in years! Did you move?" She was always nice when he hung around in here, waiting for his appointments. He only bought something once - a small figurine of a hare that he lost in the fire - but she never seemed to mind and enjoyed talking to him. _"What a well-mannered boy,"_ she'd say.

He smiles, nodding, and sees Hawkins leaning over to inspect a handsome looking china set out of the corner of his eye. "Yeah, across state. Sorry I never came to tell you, it was kinda a busy move. But we were in the area again so I figured I'd come visit."

"We?" she says, then her bespectacled eyes land on Hawkins. "Oh, hi there! Haven't we met before?"

Tim blinks in confusion, and so does Hawkins, but then he remembers Jay asking about him here. "Oh, no, that was their brother, aha." Hawkins comes closer to the counter, resting on their cane. They wave.

"Oh! How lovely. What's your name, dear?" Hawkins fingerspells, which Tim translates.

Mrs. Matthews smiles kindly. "Well, Hawkins, I hope you're having a real swell time in my shop. You see anything you like?"

"They say it all looks nice." The woman thanks them, chuckling. "I'm glad you're still in business, Mrs. Matthews. With how it was when I lived here I thought you would have had to close by now."

She smiles knowingly. "Oh, no. It's not the busiest of towns, of course, but it's livened up a bit! I think people like the, oh, how do I put it- _acoustics_ of my shop. I get plenty of lovely young people coming in lately."

"That's great."

They talk for a while longer as Hawkins meanders around. Mrs. Matthews comments on Haley, how good it was he finally had someone to help him with his seizures and other things; she also compliments Hawkins, joking how practical their mask is for her weak immune system.

Finally, he wishes her goodbye and good business, and Hawkins and he leave the shop.

They make it about five yards down the street when Hawkins can't hold it in. _T-I-M-O-T-H-Y._

"Dude, shut up! She's like my grandma, she gets a pass."


End file.
